Surviving The Zombie Apocalypse (Book 1): Sanctuary (25 page)

*
* *

“Still
staying Ray?” asked Pastor Wills.

“Nowhere
else to go,” he replied.

Most of
the remaining campers, those not part of the church group, had left. After
seeing the bitten perish and reanimate, a few more of the preacher’s flock also
departed, saying they couldn’t stay away from their families any longer or
giving some other, rational justification. The pastor thought it unfortunate –
he truly believed they would not make it back safely – but he could not, in
clear conscience, argue with their reasons.

By the
fourth day, all the remaining people had gathered in one spot, moving their
tents from the outlying campgrounds. It seemed safer.

*
* *

It was
on the fifth day that they decided to leave the national forest and check out
Chadron. The park ranger had advised them to avoid the town, but the majority
wanted to know what was happening. They needed additional information. Ray was
at the forefront in promoting this cause, and even the pastor was leaning
toward a small expedition to bring back some news of the outside. In the end,
eleven men volunteered to go. They loaded up in three cars and drove off.

“What do
you think?” asked Susan.

She was
sitting beside Timothy atop a fallen tree trunk near the water’s edge. The
group, led by Ray, had been gone most of the day. It was already past five in
the afternoon, and there’d been no sign of them.

“It could
be anything,” he answered.

“Something
bad happened. I know it.”

He took
her hands in his own. “Maybe. Something bad could have happened. We know how
dangerous the zombies are. But they could just be delayed too. Maybe they found
survivors and are going to bring them back. Or the city could be empty, and
they’re checking it out in more detail. We just don’t know. We can’t know until
they arrive.”

Timothy
was every bit as worried as his wife. Everyone in the camp was. Eleven lives
were in the balance, and most had been friends for years. They were supposed to
have come back right away. It was intended to be a quick scouting trip. They
weren’t even planning on entering the town. What could have gone wrong?

*
* *

Another
hour passed before the group found out, sort of. A single car drove down the
service road that led to the lake. There was no sign of the others as it parked
and two men dragged themselves out. They had blood on their clothes, and it was
soon learned that both had been bitten.

“What
happened?” asked Pastor Wills, hurrying up to them. “Where are the others? Is
Ray coming back?”

The man
had come to depend on Ray’s strength of will and purpose. He was a natural
fighter who’d saved them during those first horrible hours. If not for his
quick thinking and ability to react, the death toll would have been much
higher.

“Ray’s
dead,” muttered one. He looked at the bloody bandage wrapped about his arm. “Us
too.”

“But
what happened?” asked a woman. “Where’s my husband?”

“Dead.
All the others are dead.”

He
helped his companion, who’d been bitten several times on the leg, limp to a
tent. Both collapsed inside.

“Don’t,”
said the pastor, stopping the woman. “Now is not the time. Allow me to speak
with them first. Something dreadful has occurred.”

That was
certainly clear. The vacant, haunted looks in their eyes were enough.
Unfortunately, the pastor never found out what happened. No one did. Neither
man would speak about it. They just stayed in the tent as the infection racked
their bodies, not eating, barely drinking. When one finally died, the other
called out so he could be put down before he rose. A watch was then kept over
the final man. He never uttered a word, and after a while even the pastor
stopped asking.

*
* *

“What do
you think happened?” asked Timothy.

He and
Susan were again resting on the fallen tree. It had become a spot they favored
and frequented when they wanted to speak in relative privacy.

“I think
they made a mistake,” she said, “not necessarily them personally, but the group
as a whole. They did something stupid or bad and didn’t want to admit to it.
That’s why they kept silent.”

“Possible,
but maybe they were upset at having made it out when no one else did. Could be
survivor’s guilt.”

Susan
shook her head. “I think there’s more to it than that.” She hesitated. “That
might play a role though. I mean, if something horrible happened that they were
responsible for or involved in and only they then survived it, well, the guilt
would add to the reasons not to talk.”

“We’re
never going to know, and I really, really want to know.”

“Well,
don’t you be getting any ideas about going out there and seeing for yourself.
Pastor Wills already said we stay put and wait for help.”

That
suggestion – there were no rulings or true orders – came down after the second
man was buried. It made sense. They were safe. Not a single zombie had been
seen since the original outbreak. The outside was anything but. Their one
attempt to discover what was happening had ended in disaster.

“We
can’t stay here forever Susan.”

“I know,
but we’ll wait until help comes. The police or military or even the park
rangers will come to check on us eventually. The pastor said so.” Her tone was
doubtful.

“Waiting
for a while makes sense,” he said, after a long pause, concurring. “Maybe things
will settle down somewhat.”

Chapter VIII

We
continued our slow exploration of the
Nebraska
National Forest the following morning.
We’d found a detailed map of the area, including the back roads and hiking
trails, in the ranger’s home, and Briana was using this to mark the location of
houses and other buildings. Later, we would return to empty them of everything
useful. In the meantime, we were just checking for survivors and taking any
weapons, medical supplies, bottled water, or food we found. After a few hours
we stopped doing even that. We simply ran out of room to carry it all.

Susan
and Timothy wanted to take a portion of the loot back to the lake camp,
understandable since these were their friends and companions, so I, and
eventually Lizzy, relented and said that we would load the back of their pickup
with some essentials and drop it off after we finished our explorations. We
were keeping the best for ourselves however. We took the risk, and,
accordingly, we would receive the greater reward. This decided, we contacted
Pastor Wills on the radio to let him know we would be by in a few days.

“It is a
wonderful thing to share with others,” he declared, quite pleased with the
news.

“Not a
problem,” replied Susan. “We really should have looked out here sooner.”

“I
agree,” said the preacher. “My caution was a bit too excessive I fear, but it
has worked out in the end, for which I thank God. And how are you doing
Miranda?”

“I’m
fine,” she said, rather cheerfully.

Cherie
taught Miranda how to use the handheld radio shortly after we found her. It’s a
simple device, and she had no difficulty learning which buttons and dials
controlled what. It also gave her something to do, a sense of purpose.
Additionally, Cherie was quite chatty with her in general. The two spent a lot
of time talking, and they were fast becoming friends.

Briana
had her doubts of course. She was of the firm opinion that Cherie was incapable
of true friendship. She might associate with others, even like them, but Briana
was absolutely certain that it was largely an act on Cherie’s part. The woman
put herself above all others and would never do anything unless there was
something in it for her. I wasn’t ready to go quite that far, but Cherie was
definitely self-centered.

“That’s
good my dear,” said the pastor. “Any difficulties that we might help with?”

“Nothing,”
replied Miranda. “Well, I’d like a seeing eye dog. My last one died a few
months ago. Got old and his heart gave out in the yard one day. I was slated
for a new one, but you know how things went.”

“Yes, I
do. We haven’t any dogs around of any sort unfortunately, much less one
properly trained, but perhaps God will provide for you in some unexpected way.”

“It
would be nice,” interrupted Lizzy. “Ask him for some zombie repellent when you
next pray.”

“I will
do so,” he promised, nonplussed by her comments, “although I must say, I don’t
anticipate receiving any.”

“Well,
we can always hope.”

“And
have you found any zombies?” he asked. “The people here do want to know.”

“Not a
damn one,” she replied. “Can’t believe it either.”

“I have
assured you that this area is safe.”

“Best to
assume otherwise you know. Wouldn’t want to get eaten because you’re stupid and
careless.”

“We are
maintaining watches,” said Pastor Wills. “Simon was quite instrumental, with
his stories of what he had seen, in pushing that, but, like you, we have seen
nothing. He is out fishing with Michael at the moment but was kind enough to
lend me his radio. I hope you don’t mind me answering in his stead.”

“Not at
all,” said Lizzy, “as long as someone answers. We get angry if we’re ignored,
and I’m very vindictive.”

In the
mirror, I saw her Jeep swerve to the side. She really should let Lois or Mary
do the talking, at least when she was behind the wheel.

Actually,
it was the pastor we spoke with most often. He kept apologizing for this fact
as if we cared or would somehow be offended. Simon was spending most of his
time either with his son – Briana thought it was to keep the boy away from his
psychotic mother, a good thing – or countering Julie’s comments about us,
primarily me, another beneficial activity.

“Briana,
ask him what Julie’s been saying lately.”

“That’ll
be fun,” she muttered. “So pastor…” This was into the radio. “…this is Briana.
Tell me what sort of stories Julie’s been spinning. Is Jacob in league with
Satan yet? He might even be growing cloven hoofs to replace his feet.”

There
was laughter on the other end. “That is an apt description child, though the
lady has gone past that.”

“Really?”

I began
to laugh as well. It was too pathetic not to.

“Simon
continues to set the record straight,” he assured us. “There are some who do
listen, mostly the gossips who like to hear the bad about others. The majority
of her hateful efforts, and I do agree that they are spurred by an unreasonable
level of anger and sorrow about her unfortunate daughter, will come to nothing.
The people here will be grateful for the food you’ll bring by later. That will
further mitigate the accusations. Do you have a time frame when we might expect
them?”

Briana
looked over at me.

“Couple
of days,” I said. “Three or four max. We’ll have checked out everything by
then.”

We had
been moving in a rough circle and our route wouldn’t take us back to the camp
until we were finished. Granted, we could easily have detoured to do a drop
off, but Lizzy wanted nothing to do with the people there. She did not like the
stares and whispers, or their general stupidity. I agreed, but my motivation
was wanting to complete our survey of the area as quickly as possible. Even a
delay of an hour or two seemed excessive.

Briana
relayed the information.

“That’s
fine child,” he said. “If you come across any board games or toys, please bring
them back. The children are becoming restless, the adults as well.”

“I’ll
bet,” said Lizzy. “Why don’t you check out some places yourselves? You have the
people for it. Just make sure they have guns in case you do find zombies. Gotta
be safe, and running isn’t the best strategy for that. You’ll tire out way
before they do.”

“We have
very few weapons,” replied the preacher, “as you know, but we will assist
later. I don’t feel comfortable having two groups moving around right now. That
is a lot of people spread out and in potential danger.”

He was
cautious, and I suspected he still hoped for eventual rescue. Simon’s stories
had to be chipping away at that belief though, in tiny, incremental bits and
pieces.

“Lazy,
lazy, lazy,” chided Lizzy.

“Pastor
Wills is anything but lazy,” protested Susan.

“Ah,
Susan, it’s good that you have rejoined the conversation. I’d thought you were
maybe taking a nap.”

“No,
sir,” she replied. “I just didn’t have lots of nonsense to say.”

“I’ll
have you know,” stated Lizzy, “that less than eighty percent of what comes out
of my mouth is fucking nonsense. Some of it is useful.”

We could
hear Mary saying “not much” in the background.

“We have
guns for you too,” added Susan. “I don’t think we’ll need them for zombies,
since there are none, but we could use them to hunt.”

She was
still adamantly opposed to having a pistol or any other weapon on her, but
Susan had stopped looking at the gun Timothy carried as if it was the serpent
that tempted Eve. And she didn’t mind rifles or shotguns that were used for
hunting. While she never shot anything in her life, her father had apparently
hunted quite a bit, and the family generally ate whatever he bagged.

“There
are those among us who do enjoy the activity,” agreed the pastor, “and I’m sure
the people would like some fresh barbecue or stew or whatever could most easily
be prepared. There have been complaints about eating so much fish. I’ll be sure
to have them do the skinning and cleaning out of sight of our more squeamish
folk as well.”

“No,”
countered Lizzy, “make them watch. Tell them they need to grow up and stop
whining. And poison any vegetarians you have. They’re just useless.”

“My
dear,” said Thomas Wills, “poisoning people because they do not wish to eat
animals seems rather drastic, don’t you agree?”

“I never
agree with anyone.”

“If I
say Lois is cute,” asked Briana, “will you agree?”

“I… Damn
it Briana! Not at all fair.”

“Clever,”
I commented.

She gave
me one of her sparkling, to die for smiles.

“Now
children,” began the pastor, “and I do include all of you, let’s try to get
along. No teasing each other. Why, someone might think you were friends.”

It was
hard not to like Thomas Wills. His views concerning how to best survive the
zombie apocalypse might be crazy, but he was definitely personable.

“I’ll be
sure to give Briana a big hug,” said Lizzy, “before I shoot her.”

“Jacob
said that if you shoot me, he’ll cry.”

I
glanced over at Briana. “I don’t recall saying that, now or at any time in the
past.”

“You
would cry though.”

“Well,
yes. You are my sweetie.”

“Sweet
enough for a good rub at bedtime?”

“Hey,
Briana,” said Lizzy, “your hand is still on the transmit button, and what sort
of rub are we talking about? Is this something involving tender pink parts? Can
I watch?”

“Lizzy!”
shouted Susan. “That is not appropriate.”

Briana’s
face was bright red. “I did not mean for you to hear that, so let’s just forget
about it.”

“I’m
sure we can all disregard such a private matter,” said the pastor.

“Jacob
and Briana sitting in a Jeep,” began Lizzy, “rubbing away. First comes love,
then comes marriage, then comes the wild sex.” She paused. “Maybe the other way
around.”

“I think
I shall withdraw from this conversation,” said the minister, laughing softly.
“Please try to be safe.”

*
* *

The next
day we took a short break to do some hunting. Yes, I realize I didn’t want to
waste time going back to the lake camp, but let’s face facts. It wasn’t the
time spent so much as simply being there. The place bugged me. It was so
incredibly unsafe and poorly organized. But, back to hunting, Briana spotted
several deer in the trees, so I stopped and pulled out the rifle I’d found. The
scope mounted on it was powerful, far above the one on my .22. I hoped it was
zeroed in properly. I hadn’t tested it.

“Are you
going to shoot something?” asked Cherie. She’d been behind me and had likewise
stopped and opened her door.

“Shoot
what?” asked Miranda, her voice rising. “What’s out there?”

“Looks
like some deer,” said Cherie. “They’re pretty far off. I don’t think he’ll hit
them.”

“Sure he
will,” argued Briana. “Jacob is an excellent shot.”

“I’m not
an excellent shot, but I am far above average. I can drop one. We’ll have
venison tonight and a skin that we can use for a rug or something.”

“Maybe
we can wrap all the rabbit skins we have in it,” suggested Briana.

“You
have a bunch of rabbit skins?” asked Miranda.

I selected
a nice looking doe. She was small but appeared to be tender and tasty. Through
the scope I got a good view of her large eyes. She was staring right at me. I
almost felt bad, but the thought of eating more canned beans pushed that away.
Yeah, all those PETA zombies were probably doubly determined to take a bite out
of me.

“Jacob
skins the rabbits we shoot with the .22. There haven’t been too many, since we
don’t hunt as much as we could,” explained Briana. “That’ll change now, I
guess. We kept them in case we needed them for something. They don’t take up
much space and weigh nothing. Maybe we can make them into earmuffs later.”

I pulled
the trigger, and Miranda let out a squeal. “Warn me next time!”

“Sorry
about that.” I hadn’t thought of her inability to follow what was happening.

“Got
one,” declared Mary.

The
others had gathered around to watch. Lizzy gripped her pistol tightly in one
hand and was scanning the area for any zombies that might have been attracted
to the sound. None appeared.

“But was
it the one you were aiming at?” continued the perky thirteen year old.

“I’m not
telling, but you can come and help gut it.” I looked around. “Anyone want some
for lunch, or should we save it for dinner?”

“Dinner,”
said Briana. “We’ll stop early and make a fire. It won’t go bad, will it?”

“Not in
that amount of time,” replied Susan, “and not in this weather. You could wait
until tomorrow even, but I’d rather not.”